


Wicked Game

by eiluned



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6234703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kissing on the battlements was one thing. His hand in her smalls while standing five feet away from Orlesian dignitaries who were probably wondering where the Inquisitor had made off to was entirely another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wicked Game

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "Quizzy likes to seduce reserved/controlled Cullen into losing his cool and banging her in public-ish places." Huge thanks to Amanda and Trina for the beta reading and help!

There was only so much a man could take, apparently.

Isolde gasped when her back hit the cold stone wall, her hands unceremoniously pinned above her head. The gasp was cut off by a demanding kiss, tongue thrusting between her lips, teeth nipping, her mouth plundered thoroughly.

"Well, Commander," she panted when he finally broke away to catch his breath. "I didn't think you had it in you."

His smirk sent heat surging through her body. "I think you'll find I'm full of surprises, Inquisitor," he replied, his voice a rumble that made her knees feel weak. "If I'm pushed far enough, I'm capable of anything."

She squirmed as his hand traced a ticklish path down her arm, arched as his touch glanced over her breast, and her breath caught in her throat when his fingers grasped the folds of her skirt, tugging it up to bare her legs.

Well, that was even more of a surprise than getting pushed up against the wall. They were on the landing outside Josephine's office, and there was a soiree going on in the great hall, just outside the door. The office and war room were both empty, but anyone could wander through the other door or up the stairs from the kitchens at any moment.

"Here?" she squeaked, twisting her hips a little.

The smirk curling his lips grew even more dangerous. "This isn't what you wanted?" he purred, his fingers trailing across her hip down to stroke at her inner thigh. "You haven't been teasing me every chance you get just so I'd throw you over my shoulder and take you someplace private, Isolde."

Well... he wasn't wrong. She had been teasing him, trying to get a rise out of her ever-so-staid commander. It had become something of a game for her; see how quickly she could make a blush climb up his neck from under his collar, see if she could make him lose track of his words over the war table, see if she could drive him absolutely mad. She wanted to see if she could break that seemingly unswayable demeanor and have him push her up against the nearest wall.

She just hadn't expected him to actually _do_ it. Kissing on the battlements was one thing. His hand in her smalls while standing five feet away from Orlesian dignitaries who were probably wondering where the Inquisitor had made off to was entirely another.

It was a good thing Isolde was a bit of a thrill seeker.

"Well, that's true," she admitted, biting her lip as he nudged her smalls aside. "But... someone might hear us."

Cullen leaned close, his breath hot against her face, his body crowding her against the wall and making her feel small. "Then you had better stay quiet," he rumbled against her ear.

Her breath caught again as his fingers slid across her mound, parting her lips. "Wet already?" he murmured, nipping at her earlobe.

"This is rather thrilling," she said, desperately trying to keep her tone nonchalant while his fingers dipped into her wetness. "We could be caught at any time, you know. The Inquisitor and her Commander, _in flagrante delicto_ as they say in Tevinter."

His middle finger pushed briefly into her cunt, drawing a low moan from her throat and interrupting her increasingly inane babble. "Then I suppose I should hurry," Cullen said with a smirk, releasing her upstretched arms.

The first touch against her clit sent a shudder through her body, and her hands dropped to grip at the collar of his smart dress jacket. With his other hand, he tugged at the lacing on the low neckline of her dress, one she had worn specifically because she knew the effect her rather bountiful cleavage would have on him. The tie came loose, and he pulled the sea silk down, exposing her breasts to the cool air.

His other hand was still busy underneath her skirts, now-slick fingertips teasing her swelling clit. He took her mouth in another hot kiss, biting at her bottom lip, his fingers closing on her nipple and pinching just hard enough to make her moan against his lips.

"Cullen," she breathed, her body starting to tremble under his assault.

"Can you come without making a sound?" he whispered, swiping his tongue across her kiss-swollen lips. "I want you to come for me, Isolde."

His fingers worked her clit more firmly, rubbing in tight circles just the way she liked it, and he tugged at her nipples, switching back and forth between her breasts, making sure he was driving her completely out of her mind. Her cunt ached for his fingers or his cock or _anything_ to fill it. She wanted him to spread her open and fuck her until she couldn't walk.

"Come for me," he growled, his gaze so intent she felt it like fire against her skin.

Maybe it was the feel of his hands on her body, maybe it was the sound of his voice, or maybe it was the thrill of knowing anyone could walk in and catch them at any moment, but Isolde reached her peak more quickly than she imagined she could. Her head bumped the wall as she arched her back, her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from screaming. When the first spasm wracked her body, Cullen thrust two fingers deep into her cunt, and she bucked against his hand, her body clenching down on him.

"Yes," he hissed, pressing close to her.

"Please," she gasped, still shivering as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders in what was probably a rather ill-conceived attempt to climb him. "Please, Cullen, fuck me–"

Up until then, he had been cool and collected, or at least far more cool and collected than she had been. He was in control, as he nearly always was, and while she liked that (she liked that very, very much, in fact), the whole purpose of this tease-Cullen-and-try-to-get-him-to-lose-his-cool exercise was to... well, get Cullen to lose his cool.

She guessed the feel of her coming around his fingers and the sight of her, breasts bare and upthrust, lips bitten from his kisses, was just enough to break his resolve.

With a low groan, he kissed her again, tugging his fingers from her cunt to work quickly at the ties on his trousers. It took all of her willpower to not let out of a shriek when he suddenly swept her feet out from under her, lifting her up and hooking his arms underneath her knees so that she was pinned against the wall by his weight, her thighs splayed open.

She could feel the blunt head of his cock pressed up against her arse, hot and hard and ready to fuck her, but in this position, she couldn't get the leverage to move and get that cock right where she wanted it. She was entirely at his mercy, and that sent a thrill through her.

He hitched her up a little higher and dipped his head, brushing his stubbled cheek against her hard nipples. With a quick snap of his hips, he thrust inside of her.

Isolde was wet and relaxed from her climax, but he was still thick enough to make her moan aloud, and she bit her lip again to stifle a cry as he pushed steadily into her. Only when his cock was buried deep did he stop and give her a moment to adjust to his girth.

She could hear talking on the other side of the door, the contrived laughter of a courtier, Josephine's answering chuckle. At the bottom of the stairs, she could hear echoes from the kitchen, hard at work preparing the sorts of canapés and petits fours that would satisfy Josie's catering needs. At any second, someone could have walked in and found them like this: Isolde's legs spread wide, Cullen's cock splitting her open, his mouth on her tits, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Oh fuck," she mewled, tangling her fingers in his hair as he sucked at her nipples.

Using his arms to hold her up, he drew back and began to fuck her with deep, powerful thrusts. She could vaguely feel the surface of the stone wall digging into her back, but it faded into the background. All she could focus on was the feel of his teeth tugging at her nipples, his heavy weight against her body, the pull and drag of his cock inside of her.

With a barely restrained gasp, Isolde came again, her legs straining against Cullen's arms, her body bucking against his, thrusting her breasts against his face. He kept pounding into her, a low groan building in his throat, and with a final, deep thrust, he shuddered against her. The feel of his cock throbbing and pulsing sent a last jolt of pleasure through her body, and she writhed on his cock as he spent deep inside of her.

For a long moment, there was just the sound of their labored breathing over the muffled noise on the other side of the door. "I cannot," Cullen panted, his forehead pressed against the side of her neck, "believe we just did that."

Isolde started to laugh, but a clatter at the bottom of the stairs made them both freeze, staring at each other in alarm. "Quick!" she whispered as he withdrew from her and put her feet back on the ground.

Josephine's office was thankfully empty, and Cullen shut the door quietly and leaned against it. The two of them listened to servants climb the stairs, chattering about the cook's latest pet peeves, and only when they heard the outer door close did they relax.

"Maker's breath," Cullen swore, dragging his hand over his face.

Isolde grinned at him, tugging the bodice of her dress back up and retying the laces. "That was close," she said.

With a laugh, he shook his head at her. "You are a minx, Inquisitor Trevelyan."

"You love it, Commander Rutherford," she replied, sauntering over and straightening his jacket.

"That I do," he murmured, bending to press a kiss against her lips.

 

They managed to sneak back into the great hall with no one the wiser, or so they thought. Isolde didn't notice the way Leliana's eyes lingered on her slightly mussed hair, and Cullen missed the grin Josie hid behind her hand.

Stuck in a boring conversation with a merchant from Val Firmin, Isolde let her eyes wander across the chattering crowd. Cullen was talking with a chevalier, but when he glanced up and caught Isolde's eye, he blushed all the way to the roots of his hair.

Clearing her throat to keep from chuckling, Isolde turned her head when someone touched her shoulder. Dorian inclined his head to the merchant in apology as he leaned close to Isolde's ear. "The staircase?" he murmured, a wicked note of humor in his voice. "My, but you and the Commander are adventurous."

With that, he swanned off, taking a drink from a passing servant and striking up a conversation with Vivienne.

Isolde blushed all the way to the roots of her hair.


End file.
